


Loki's excellent saga of bitterness and madness

by orphan_account



Category: Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Dirty Dancing, Gen, Homophobic Asgardian society, Issues, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Feels, Loki being his spiteful, Loki using a spear like a pole, Odin’s grade A++ parenting, Other, Sexual Tension, Sif being badass, Thor Feels, Thor being an over-protective let-me-grab-you-by-the-neck-and-punch-sense-into-you type of brother, Thorki if you want it to be, in front of an audience, lots of feels, lying self, misogynism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 17:57:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/689821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tale exploring the rotten family dynamics of Asgard's royal family. Odin is a terrible father, Thor is having trouble dealing with his brother's irregularities. Loki does what he wants out of spite... Set a few centuries before the Thor movies. Maybe a little AU... Slight Thorki, if you want it to be, but mainly brotherly feels.</p><p>Sorry for the spelling and grammar mistakes in advance. I tried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Asgard celebrated the coming of each new year during the warmest month of the year – July and the 12-day festival of Yule. Once Odin had returned from his Wild Ride over the skies of the Nine-Realms of his horse Sleipnir, the celebrations commenced. Along with feasts that lasted for days, Asgard also had a tradition of welcoming entertainers from all over the realms to perform at a massive, golden stadium that held more than 300,000 citizens at a time. As every year, on that hot, sunny July day, it was filled to its full capacity, busting with not just Asgardians from all over the immortal land, but also various colourful inhabitants from all over. There were light-elves, fey folk, dwarfs, even trolls and giants. Everyone’s thirst was well drowned in mead, and sweetbreads and roasted meats were being carried onto the stalls as snacks during the 24-hour performances. 

Audiences came and went, but there was one specific show, which drew in the widest of interest, for which the stadium became overcrowded, with people standing and hanging on every available surface, and all of Asgard’s nobility and royal family attended.

They all attended and all sat at the special royal tribunes that were raised just above the circular arena for the best of views. Everyone except for one.

Thor sat in the middle of his booth, behind him were the warriors three and on his left side was the Lady Sif. The booth next to his was the most central one of the tribune - reserved for Odin and Frigga. And the only seat in the entire stadium that was empty was the one next to Thor’s right side – Loki’s seat.

Because Loki was down on the stage – walking confidently to the centre of the arena and waving at the applauding audience. Thor could hear Odin grunt in disapproval at Loki’s outfit. Not that anything else was to be expected – Loki’s flashy outfits were half of the show, which he gave the people of Asgard and their visitors every year on this celebration.

Indeed the second prince of Asgard had the unusual talents of dance and magic, liked to show off and the peoples of the realms couldn’t get enough of him. His performance was probably the most anticipated in the entire program, because of the illusions he created to impress the audience not just with his fluid grace, but also his ability to weave spells effortlessly even when his mind and body were engaged elsewhere.

Thor thought that it was an excellent battle skills to have, despite it being a coward’s advantage, Loki had changed fate’s favours in critical situations by fooling their enemies in combat many times. It didn’t present honourable victories, however it regularly saved Thor and his fellow warriors’ lives. Not that anybody ever acknowledged it, because it brought shame to the brave men of Asgard, who would rather die in battle and go to Valhalla, than be saved by trickery.

Amidst cheers, laughs and cat-calls Loki had already began performing. Thor’s eyes idly surveyed the outfit – it seemed meant to represent armour, being dark in colour and having plates of polished gold over his chest and shoulders, the sides of his arms and legs. However, it really had nothing of the decency of a warrior’s attire. It was not made of leather or anything sturdy – it seemed to be created of a light material, which wrapped around his brother’s body as if it were a second skin, stretching easily with each expansive movement of Loki’s long limbs. Despite it being mostly black and dark green, it seemed to shimmer as if it was covered in tiny dark crystals. The golden plates on Loki’s chest and shoulders looked more like decoration than protection, with elegant form-hugging lines, which wouldn’t have served much against damage. The gold and the shiny dark material underneath reflected off each other. Loki was a dazzling sight, one that enemies would spot from miles away for he glittered in the sun like a crystal. 

But to complete the look, Loki also wore a green cape, decorative vambraces and was holding a long, beautifully crafted spear, his weapon of choice. It danced between his fingers as he did the first few spins to greet the audience and the music began. The Asgardian war drums, set up a fast pace, accompanied with the more finer instruments from the royal court, which produced a music, not quite fitted for war, but not entirely suited for a night of leisure. It was exciting, fast and unusual, and it fitted Loki’s quick body and wit quite well.

The dark haired prince was now performing in earnest and the crowd quieted, becoming transfixed by the hypnotic movements of the prince’s agile body. It was easy to forget one’s thoughts while looking at him like that. Loki’s entire body moved with such effortless grace, as if he was chasing and evading, dashing and attacking, parring and hitting, each movement definitely derived from war, but at the same time exaggerated with rhythmic pauses, beautiful movements, and perfectly-paced steps. 

Loki spun around with momentum, his cape drawing a full circle around him, he ducked, his spear in both hands, before he stood up, turning around one more time and stabbing the tip of his spear into the ground. With a light jump, Loki continued the movement, hooking one knee around the shaft and allowing himself to be spun around it once before dislodging and pulling the spear out along with him. He dragged the tip along the ground with him as he dashed, and with the next jump he used it to propel himself off for an impressive flip in the air, landing on his feet and doing a dramatic spin. He savoured the audience’s applause with outstretched arms, then span the spear around his fingers with unnatural speed before he threw it high in the air without following with his eyes. While the spear was in the air, Loki continued his dance with another few light jumps, steps and spins, his arms gracefully leading the way before he jumped and landed down on one knee, twisting his torso to the side and throwing his head back, and arms wide opened…

The audience held their breath for a moment before the spear landed and pierced the ground inches from Loki’s body, between his outstretched knee and opposing arm. The arena collectively gasped. And Loki lifted his head, opening his eyes to survey their faces and grin widely at their reaction. Thor felt himself heaving out a sigh of relief. That had been a dangerous trick to pull and he felt himself joining in the roaring applause of the audience and smiling.

The darker prince got up and gave a small bow before energetically pulling back his spear and walking towards the centre of the stage, twirling it between his fingers expertly. 

“I hope you enjoyed that,” Loki pronounced loudly enough for the whole arena to hear.

“More!” someone shouted and it was immediately picked up by the audience. 

“MORE! MORE! MORE!”

Loki snickered. His eyes glinted so bright, in the way that Thor knew they always did when Loki was feeling extremely self satisfied. 

“But of course,” Loki said with another small bow. “You haven’t even seen the best part yet.”

The audience erupted in cheers.

Thor reluctantly clapped his hands in encouragement, glancing to Sif, who was sitting next to him. She sighed, her mouth a thin line, but nodded and clapped along, wordlessly agreeing that it was indeed impressive. Thor glanced to his other friends. Volstagg’s enthusiasm showed by the rapid rate at which he was stuffing his face with boar meat, Hogun was as grim as ever, and Fandral, had stopped cooing to the two blonde ladies who were sitting on each of his thighs, and was watching intently with a smile on his face. 

A glance in the other direction revealed that Odin was just as unimpressed as he usually was with Loki, but their mother was smiling and clapping with pride and adoration in her eyes. 

Loki’s eyes also darted to their parents. For a brief moment his smile was warm and sincere when his eyes met Frigga’s, but his face immediately hardened and his smile lost its sincerity when he looked at his father’s one good eye. However, Loki seemed to take Odin’s lack of response as a challenge, so when he turned back to the audience his walk was full of purpose as he made his way to the middle again. 

Throwing his cape, vambraces and helmet to the side, Loki dramatically raised his arms above his head, spear stabbed in the ground next to him, his face full of concentration. Tendrils of green magic began radiating out of his fingers, dancing like flames down his arms and around his body. Thor knew this was all for the show, because Loki didn’t need a moment to concentrate, in order to summon any magic, however the crowd was going absolutely crazy with anticipation. 

Loki was Asgard’s best mage – no one could rival him, not even Amora. The only one more capable than him in magic was probably the All-father, but Odin never made a show out of his abilities as he had made it clear he considered the whole concept of showing-off womanly and disgraceful. 

The flames around Loki’s arms turned more orange and when he looked up, the air around him became ablaze with what looked like real fire. Loki threw his arms up, made some elaborate twists with his entire body, jumped and fell down on one knee, slapping his hands to the ground. The fire on him extinguished, but it transferred to the ground, where a bigger one became ablaze in a tight semi-circle around him. The prince got up, grabbed his spear and danced in the burning frame, his body’s movements frantic and hypnotizing, the warm light reflecting off the gold of his outfit, shining off the dark crystals. It was a bright day, and the stadium’s top was opened, but somehow Loki managed to outshine the July sun with a display so fiery that Thor could almost feel the heat of the flames on his skin. And those green eyes shined so bright and seemed so wild and alive even from a distance, that it looked like Loki was the essence of fire itself.

The sight transfixed everyone– it was like staring into the burning coals for too long – their mind becoming numb and intoxicated as if by magic.

The effect was broken when suddenly the fire changed colour to bright purple and teal and crept over the ground, spreading around. It was no longer fire at all, but more like glowing ethereal ribbons, which rose high into the air, weaving and branching out like the branches of Yggdrasil. 

The ribbons of light gathered at the top of the arena, and the sky above suddenly darkened, as if someone had put a lid over the opening at the top of the stadium. The audience gasped as auras began dancing above their heads, beginning in fountains around Loki and shining in the air above them. The younger prince’s dance didn't waver even for a second while this magic took place. He ran forward, jumping and turning in the air, almost like performing cartwheels, only without the hands. He landed on his legs and began spinning, conjuring a dozen doubles, who positioned themselves in a symmetrical formation behind him. 

The audience screamed in excitement as Loki and his doubles began performing together as one, each one holding his own spear, all the while the auras twisted in-between them like veils of silk blown in the wind. Thor wasn’t overly impressed. He knew both those tricks quite well. What happened next, however, took him by surprise. 

Each of Loki’s doubles ran in a different direction and faced a different side of the arena, performing differently from each other. Thor glanced at the All-father. Odin’s eyebrows were slightly raised and Thor once again reluctantly clapped at the display. It was amazing what Loki’s concentration allowed him to do – controlling each one of these dancers and having them do different things - it was quite something, all the while conjuring the visual illusions.

The real Loki was in the middle of the arena waving his arms up around him in what looked like a frantic dance, which was gathering his magic towards him - the auras were sucked to a spinning ball of energy high above his head. It grew and grew, shining ever so brightly, while the audiences held their breath. Suddenly the music stopped, just a lone drum beat wildly as Loki’s copies turned and run towards him at the same time, and in the moment they reached him, the ball above their heads exploded with a blinding light.

The crowds cried out in shock, fear and awe, but when the shining light was gone, all that remained were tiny stars and snowflakes raining from the sky. The audience cheered and wow-ed. The temperature dropped and the light muted further. The snow and stars gave out an ethereal blue glow, which reminded Thor of the illustrations of Jotunheim, but it was still very beautiful. He reached for a falling star, which twinkled in the air in front of him, but once he touched it, it gave a shining burst and disappeared. The snow however was a different topic all together – it was real! It was cold, it melted as it touched Thor’s warm arms and face and left a smear of water in its place.

Thor couldn’t help but laugh and clap along with the audience, who was overcome with a childish sort of happiness and awe. They almost never got snow in the golden city, and when they did, it only ever signalled bad things to come. So this was an unexpected, shocking but delightful surprise. 

Even Sif was smiling widely and held her palms opened to gathered snow and exploding stars. A glance behind him, revealed Fandral naming stars after his beloveds, Hogun’s eyebrows and corner of the mouth raised and Volstagg, so busy with the display that he had forgotten to eat. 

Thor clapped and laughed good-naturedly, putting an arm around Sif and looking towards his mother and father. That’s when his face fell. Odin not only didn’t look impressed, but he was frowning deeply. Frigga was smiling and clapping, but her eyebrows were drawn together in what looked like worry. Thor couldn’t figure out what was wrong and was jolted when suddenly Odin’s electric blue eye caught his stare. 

Thor quickly looked away. Loki was once again alone on the stage, bowing and receiving the audience’s love. He was smiling widely and looked happy. But once he looked to his father, his smile froze on his face. 

Thor’s eyes darted between Loki on the stage and Odin in his booth. The stare off was brief but intense, and Thor wasn’t quite sure what it meant, but once Loki had looked away, he was strangely grim and resolved. He smiled again, but this time it was not a kind smile. There was something vile and crooked about it, and he seemed full of mischief. 

The audience didn’t seem to pick up the change in Loki’s demeanour, but Thor knew those shifts all too well. Quickly he got up from his seat, clapping even louder and leaning over the railing of the tribune.

“That was a marvellous show, my brother! Your skill indeed has grown since last year! I toast to your precision and grace!” Thor said, raising the cup in his hand. The audience roared in agreement and raised their drinks. 

Loki’s cold gaze nailed him. His eyes narrowed knowingly, and the hateful glare that he sent his older brother said it all so clear.

“Silence!” Loki roared, turning to the cheering crowds, who quieted down. A small smile slowly formed on Loki’s face and his voice was full of promise as he said, “The best part is still yet to come.”

Taking off the gold shoulder and chest pads, that must have weighed a ton, despite their delicate design, Loki stalked to where he had thrown his spear earlier. As he slowly picked it up, his gaze became challenging and the mischievous smile grew on his face.

“I believe you all came here to see me dance. That’s what I’ve become renown for, isn’t it? Did you enjoy the show so far?” he looked around. Some people shouted “Yes”, some “No”, others shouted “you were ok” but Loki wasn’t really waiting for the confused crowds to answer. “It wasn’t much of a dance, was it,” he said and stabbed the spear into the ground. Then he beaconed to the musicians before turning to the crowd once again. “Let me give you what you really came here for.”

Thor knew the ways in which Loki could dance. He remembered well from days long passed, when they had both been younger and naïve. He remembered how Loki used to dance back then, turning heads of maidens, warriors, servants and nobility alike, lingering, hungry, dirty attention, which Loki paid no heed to, did not take seriously. Thor remembered sharing the same naivety, watching his brother’s lithe body move in ways that should have felt wrong, but didn’t. Thor remembered loving Loki’s small innocent, yet suggestive smile as he rocked his hips and arched his back, swayed and pressed off surfaces with languid grace. He remembered being in awe and praising his brother. But how it shamed him to remember that now…

Loki’s reputation of a great dancer started in the palace – when servants, guards or other nobility got to see him dance whenever music was playing. He was never shy about it – he rejoiced in the attention, he gave people what they wanted. Everyone talked about it and even more demanded to see. Once it reached the All-father’s ears, Odin wanted to check what all the fuss around his youngest was about. Loki had been all too happy to show-off his talent, but instead of compliments, the All-father had reacted… badly. 

Thor still cringed at some of the words and accusations that had been thrown that day. Loki had been angry, and probably embarrassed, because tears had run down his cheeks and his eyes shined with supressed emotions as Odin forbid him to ever dance again. People continued to ask Loki to entertain them, and despite the All-father’s ban, Loki had continued, added magic tricks and costumes, and when Odin found out, Loki argued that his dancing had changed. There was nothing wrong with the new style Loki had chosen – it was athletic, martial arts inspired, and definitely masculine. In the end Odin had decided to allow Loki to continue playing the court’s jester, as the he had put it. 

And after a few centuries of this, after word had spread over the nine realms, it had eventually become this – during Yule Loki’s participation was a must. 

Thor wasn’t as dense as his brother accused him to be. He could now see where this was going and the hair at the back of his neck stood up with alarm and unease. Things were so different now. He and Loki were not the innocent children they had been back then, so he prayed Loki wouldn’t do something that would embarrass Odin’s house and Asgard. 

However, when the music began to play and it’s alluring tunes confirmed Thor’s worst suspicions, there was nothing he could do to stop Loki from sheading the rest of the golden plates from himself, remaining in that form-hugging dark outfit and throwing his entire body back in an impossible arch. His flat abs pulled him back up gracefully, the shiny material reflecting off his flexing muscles slowly. A ball formed in Thor’s throat at the sight.

“What is he doing?” hissed Sif.

Thor didn’t say anything, just pressed his lips tightly together, feeling his cheeks beginning to burn.

There was unmistakable hysteria as Loki shifted his weight to one leg, threw the other one in the air and span gracefully. He spun around the spear, hooked one leg and lowered himself down towards the ground. He moved back up, spinning around to stand. He raised one arm up, gaze following it as he weaved his hand gracefully through the air, slowly lowering it next to his body, which picked up the swaying motions. Loki’s narrow hips shifted around the shaft and moved away to sway freely to the music. Hi lean broad shoulders, trim middle and long legs moved in perfect unison and grace, in a dance that left little to the imagination. The same way that it was easy to picture Loki on the battlefield during the first part of his performance, where he had lunged, jumped and thrown his spear around, it was now easy to imagine Loki in bed. 

His sultry expression did nothing to ease that fact. And Thor wanted to look away, it felt wrong to look at his brother and see this. It felt wrong to watch him and feel the strong pull of that inviting body.

The way Loki’s strong hips moved, the arch of his back and neck as he leaned back, the way he lowered himself and straightened back up took women’s breaths away. Thor could see the their faces in the audience – some were trying to hide their gaping mouths behind small hands, others seemed too embarrassed to look, and some were blatantly salivating over Loki’s tempting, strong yet graceful movements. But what angered Thor was not the maiden’s attraction – it was the straight lines and wide eyes of the warriors beside them. Some were making faces of disgust but others didn’t have the common decency to pretend - it was clear that they all wanted him. Badly. 

Loki had conjured up illusions again – this time it was incredibly long black ribbons, four attached to his waist, two to each wrist and ankle. The long black material flew around him by magic, never touching the ground, but always following Loki’s wide movements. Loki turned, threw himself backwards, catching himself on one arm and transferring his legs over his body with control. He landed on his feet, spun around again, swayed to one side, his shoulders and hips moving, circled his arms up in beaconing movements, as if he was inviting the entire arena to himself. Through the shock, Thor suddenly noticed that Loki was smiling. His expression was devilish but also blissful. It made Thor’s anger subside a bit, and confusion took its place. He didn’t know what to do or feel about his brother and his ways. 

Meanwhile, Loki’s dance had enthralled the audience so much that they were all on their feet once the trickster was finished and they shouted so loud in excitement (and mockery) that it was overwhelming. Loki was down there, his arms raised, accepting the attention with a deep bow, and smiling so widely, it might have split his face in two. He was undoubtedly glancing at the All-father now, because his smile had darkened in disobedience. Thor himself didn’t dare to see how Odin would react and didn’t wait for the tension to escalate further.

“Marvellous, brother. But it would have been even better if you had done the other trick you are so good at, and turned into a woman,” Thor shouted to overcome the applause.

Loki sneered at his attempts of sarcasm, as if saying ‘nice try, oaf’.

“I did do it in precaution,” Loki shouted back and the crowd quieted down to hear the exchange. “You might have forgotten that I am your brother…”

That made the arena laugh even harder. The implication being that Thor was so stupid and shallow that he forgot everything at the sight of a beautiful maiden’s swaying hips. 

Perhaps that was partially true, but only when he had had enough to drink and definitely not true, when he actually knew it was Loki. 

Thor growled in rising rage, but it was Sif who interrupted him, getting up to lean over the railing next to Thor.

“Loki is right – no need to weave an illusion to be a woman – he already is like one,” Sif said and people started falling of their seats in laugher.

Loki’s sneer darkened further when his eyes moved from Thor to Sif. 

“And who better to know about the ways of women than the delicate Lady Sif,” Loki said with deceiving sweetness. 

The smile returned to his face, crueller and more mischievous than ever as he held Sif’s hard gaze. 

“Yet, Thor is right – I shouldn’t keep my best tricks a secret. I will now demonstrate the finest of feminine beauty and grace!” Loki said, turning to the audience and urging their applause with a powerful gesture of his open arms. 

The trickster tipped his head back to look over his shoulder at the couple. He was smiling cruelly.

“For Thor and Lady Sif’s special honour…” he raised his arm and when he spun around his form was no longer his own. It wasn’t any woman’s either. He was Sif.


	2. Chapter 2

Dressed in a long, close-fitting red dress with a seam, which run up to just bellow his feminine hip stood Loki in Sif’s form. The lady’s silky midnight hair fell around the naked shoulders and arms, threaded with golden hair clips in the shape of flowers. The neckline was low and revealing of Sif’s full assets in a way the real one never revealed herself, even at the most festive of occasions. 

The real Sif almost squealed in indignation at the sight. She lunged forward, ready to jump over the railing and race towards Loki but Thor held her back.

Meanwhile Loki confidently strut around the arena.

“This is too much, Loki,” Odin intervened. “Stop this act right now!”

“But father,” Loki’s voice came out like Sif’s, but with an unmistakable fake innocence, that the trickster adopted so easily. “It would greatly disappoint our guests.”

The audience screamed and applauded in confirmation that they wanted to see the show. Loki smirked evilly when Odin angrily sat back in his seat. He knew their father would indulge the masses, even if it were at the price of Lady Sif’s honour. 

Loki walked in tune with the music, giving the audience his attention. He had his long dark eyelashes lowered, full lips puckered and generous chest pushed up in a strut that could put Amora’s seductive walk to shame. The way Loki rolled his hips caused Sif’s beautiful curves to move and shake in the most delicious way possible and Thor had to remind himself of the taunt his brother had thrown at him earlier. He wasn’t going to forget that was Loki after all and tried to be disgusted.

The crowd went crazy with cat-calls and whistles. Sif covered her face in shame, and Thor put an arm around her.

“This is not you, Sif,” he told her. “They are laughing at Loki, not you.”

“It doesn't matter, Thor,” she said, pushing his arm off her shoulders without lifting her face. “It is my body he puts on display. Like some common harlot!”

“I will make him pay for this, I swear,” Thor vowed and furrowed his brows in anger as he looked upon his mischievous little brother. 

Loki was standing in the arena, just posing in an exaggerated position with his hands on his hips and fingers drumming impatiently as he regarded the audience with a chin raised so high, it probably hurt his neck, in a mocking imitation of Sif.

“I am the Lady Sif, not to be mistaken for a woman,” he was saying. “I don't know why they still call me a Lady, when I am obviously a warrior. Can’t you see? Don’t you fear me? What, you don’t? And what if I put you all beneath me?!”

The men in the audience shouted in enthusiasm of being beneath Sif’s ‘warrior’s frame’. 

A sudden sparkle of inspiration shone in Sif’s (Loki’s) dark blue eyes and he strode eagerly to the side of the arena where the servants were sitting behind the fence. 

“Give me a sword! Someone give me a sword and all shall tremble in fear!” 

Someone threw Loki a sword and he grabbed it by the handle in mid-air effortlessly. 

“Beware!”

Loki’s Sif spun around, hair and skirt twirling around. He was pointing the blade forward childishly with both arms gripping it’s handle. 

“Enemies of Asgard, beware!” Loki began walking and slashing the air before him in a decidedly comical manner, which had the audience double over in laughter at the ridiculous impression of Asgard’s proud maiden warrior. “The Lady Sif shall now attack!”

With that Loki charged forward, the seamed skirt flying behind Sif’s long legs, revealing their pale, slender build. He made a jump and landed in a 3-point position, one arm outstretched with the sword in hand. His breasts gave some impressive bounces as he did so.

Sif’s face was as red as a tomato, and this time Thor’s grasp didn’t manage to stop her as she grabbed her weapon and climbed over the rail separating them from the arena. 

Loki was busy dangling his sword around the air, jumping and quickly ducking, all the while striking seductive posses to notice Sif approaching. Her sword was raised for a kill and suddenly Thor’s breath caught in fear of what would happen.   
Loki noticed the crowd’s sudden diversion of attention and turned around just in time to miss Sif’s downward slash aimed at his head. 

Sif growled animalistically and attacked again, Loki managing to parry the hit at the last moment and stumbling backwards. The fake Sif spun gracefully out of reach from the next powerful attempt and recovered just in time to swing an attack at the real one.

Thor’s eyes were impossibly wide as he watched the two Sifs fighting each other. His beloved’s rage had thrown her into such a frenzy that her attacks were sloppy but full of power, which could have taken one of Loki’s limbs clean off. His brother was quickly pushed to defence in the face of Sif’s anger-infused ferocity and backed up to the wall of the arena.

With a ferocious yell Sif jumped, throwing her entire body-weight into her next slash. Loki met it and sparkles flew from their swords, but he was pushed backwards until his back hit the wall with a heavy impact. Their blades were locked together and Sif was unrelenting – she pushed the swords down towards her doppelganger’s sneering face. Loki felt his arms giving out, and his footing was not steady enough to attempt a hooking trip, so he was forced to shape-shift back into his normal body again It took only a second, and once returned to his larger and stronger physical build, he managed to push off the wall and throw Sif’s smaller frame away. 

As the two locked blades again, Loki barely saw the hit coming before it landed. For a moment the world went dark and when he opened his eyes, he was on the ground, having been hit in the head by Mjolnir. He must have been out for not more than a second or two, because the hammer’s owner was already reaching for his neck and lifting him off the ground to shake him. Breath taken away and stunned by the hit, Loki couldn’t make out the words that were being shouted, all he could register was the blinding light of the sun and the rising noise from the crowd. 

He found himself thrown to the ground again but managed to gather his wits enough to see that Thor had abandoned him, for the purpose of holding Sif back, because apparently the guards that were trying to contain her rage against him were having trouble doing that. 

Once Sif was relatively contained, Thor turned to Loki again, grabbed him by the neck and dragged him bodily out of the stage, leaving the noise and the light all behind. 

Loki struggled for breath, kicked and tried to scream, but Thor punched him hard enough to quiet him, then threw him over one shoulder and carried him away.

Loki’s face burned with shame and he couldn’t escape the humiliating manhandling. It seemed like Thor was intend on disgracing him by carrying him home like an errant child for everyone to see, laugh and talk about.

Once back in the palace, Thor kicked Loki’s door opened and threw the trickster on the floor. With a powerful swing he shut the door, and it shook so hard, it almost broke.

“Why did you do that?!” Thor roared. “You disgraced Sif, you disgraced yourself, you disgraced the house of Odin and the whole of Asgard with your petulant behaviour!”

“You call me petulant?” Loki said in disbelief. “You, the mighty Thor, who always gets what he wants, who always does what he wants – you are calling me out on doing the same for once?!”

“Why did you do that,” Thor demanded again, “What was all that about? As if we don't all know how much like a woman you are, Loki! With your magic and your…” he gestured wordlessly to Loki’s body, still clad only in the sparkling outfit he had performed in.

“Don’t you dare call me a woman,” Loki cut him off, suddenly furious.

“And why not?!” Thor shouted so loud that probably the whole floor heard him. “It would have been better if you were indeed born a woman, because at least we would have been able to call you a harlot and be done with it…”

“So this is what it is about,” Loki’s voice lowered and his expression became schooled. “This is not about me jesting with your beloved Sif, is it? It is because you disapprove of the way I am.”

“I don’t disapprove of the way you are, Loki!” Thor thundered. “I disapprove when you start acting all like that – as if you…”

There was a pregnant pause in which Thor wasn’t sure how to put it, and Loki stared at him in an unimpressed manner. 

“As if I what?” Loki finally snapped. “Say it!”

“As if you would lay with men!” finally Thor spit it out.

“And what if I have!?” Loki shouted at the top of his voice and the sentence rang in Thor’s ears in the dead silence that followed it.

Thor was frozen into a stupor, and Loki blinked once or twice, suddenly realizing the gravity of his mistake to make such a statement. He was the first to recover and to move, getting up from where he had been bracing himself against the foot of his bed, beginning to make for a quick escape. But as soon as Loki moved Thor was also set into action and he lunged through the room so quickly that the dark haired prince couldn’t escape being grabbed by the neck yet again and thrown forcefully backwards.

“YOU HAVEN’T,” Thor roared, causing the very foundations to rattle. Luckily Loki had landed on his large bed and didn’t hurt himself. He tried to turn over and crow out from the other side, but Thor grabbed his ankle and pulled him back. 

Loki’s feet were kicking, blows landing all over his golden brother’s face and chest, but Thor had gone into an almost berserk state and kept grabbing at him, trying to subdue him. Feeling the ferocity of a cornered animal, Loki’s anger took over his mouth.

“You can’t tell me what to do!” Loki screamed. He flopped over on his back and kicked Thor as hard as he could in the head. Thor was still grabbing at him, climbing over his kicking feet and straddling him. Loki fought to free the wrists, which Thor had grabbed, but Thor was putting his entire massive weight in an attempt to pin him down. Loki trashed around screaming, “You can’t! You can’t!” for another few moments before he realized that he would tire before he managed to escape that grip and ended his efforts.

“I can, and I will!” Thor shouted, taking both of Loki’s wrists in one hand and pinning them over Loki’s head. He grabbed Loki’s face with the other hand, held him roughly and shook his head. “How many?”

Loki stared at him.

“Tell me how many!” Thor roared in his face.

Loki was pretending to be unfazed again and it maddened his brother even more when he quirked an amused eyebrow.

“Many. A lot. More than I have bothered to count,” Loki said and there was a cruel enjoyment at the howl of distress that Thor let out as he suddenly got off Loki as if he was contaminated.

Loki pushed himself up to his elbows and regarded Thor’s emotional reaction, which had suddenly turned very entertaining.

“How could you?” Thor sounded almost broken. “Why? I’ve seen you leave with maidens… Was that all a lie…”

“No,” Loki said almost conversationally. “I take maidens all the time, as you have seen me do. But… sometimes I make a different choice.”

“Why?!” Thor finally brought himself to meet his brother’s eyes again. 

“I don’t restrict my tastes, and I don’t see why I should,” Loki said enjoying the scrunching of his brother’s face. 

“Loki, if you still like women, that’s good. It means that you might yet be cured,” Thor said, suddenly all reconciliation.

“You seem to think that there is something wrong with me!” Loki shouted, angry again.

“Well, there is…” 

“Why? Because father says so?!” Loki hit his fist on the bed and hastily got up, shoving Thor out of the way. He strode to the other side of the room before turning back and walking right back in Thor’s face. “I have expanded my views. Just because the All-father says something it doesn’t mean it’s necessarily true!”

“What do you know about truth, Liesmith?” Thor growled, angry at the disrespect towards their father, which Loki was showing.

That seemed to hit a nerve because Loki sneered at him hatefully.

“I know more about truth, than you do, you oaf! You believe any words that reach your stupid ears, and that, I can attest to from experience,” Loki hissed.

Thor barely stopped his hand from landing on his brother’s face once again. His fist stopped in the air just a few inches from Loki’s head, and his younger brother looked at him icily.

“What happened? Do it! Hit me, if you want to, you big, great meatloaf!” Loki shouted. There was madness in his eyes, something that Thor didn’t like seeing, and did not like remembering once their arguments cooled down, but it was reoccurring, and ever so often there.

“You are doing this because of father, aren’t you,” Thor said, and it wasn’t a question. 

“No! I do it, because I like getting fucked!” Loki shouted in Thor’s face.

Once again there was silence between them, and Thor’s eyes were wide and Loki wondered if what he had said was the truth or if he had wanted to hurt his brother, or was it a bit of a combination between both.

Thor seemed to deflate then. He suddenly looked small and defeated. He turned away with a lowered head. Loki worked to steady his breath and watched as Thor wordlessly began making his way towards the door.

A part of Loki screamed for him to reach out, to grab his brother by the wrist and do something instead of creating yet another riff to push them even further apart.

But Loki did nothing, he allowed Thor to leave, seeping into the core of his negative emotions instead, allowing anger and rejection to take up his thoughts and cursed Thor for everything that he meant to him, and all the ways in which he cared, no matter how much he tried to hate and forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that must be the longest one-shot I've ever written! I don't know where it all came from but Loki and Thor's brotherly feels, love and agression have always fascinated me. I hope you liked it and leave me your comments and thoughts!


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